The bars on his phone popped up, then died away again as he took another step. He backed up and quickly opened his inbox. He had several other messages waiting, but at the moment, he was only interested in reading Amanda’s report.
Kyle reread the message twice.
Damn. No wonder she didn’t want Dr. Walker outed as her birth father. If the truth were revealed, Shayna Miller would cease to exist, because duplicate birth certificates could mean only one thing: one was forged. And if James Miller had forged Shayna’s birth certificate, that meant he’d never been legally granted permanent custody of her when she was seven, as they’d both claimed.
This was what he’d been waiting on. The key to Shayna’s cooperation, the ammunition he needed to get this case wrapped up quickly.
Heart heavy, Kyle returned the phone to his pocket and turned back toward the house.
So where the hell was his usual rush of victory?
She’d overslept. A very rare occurrence. Normally, Brinks’s bladder was more reliable than any alarm clock. Shayna rolled over and stretched her legs toward the foot of the bed, feeling around for the dog.
Nothing but heavy covers and cool sheets. Prying her eyelids open, she squinted at the murky light filling her room. Wow. She’d
Throwing off the covers, she sat up and dropped her bare feet to the floor. A whistle flew from her lips as she immediately yanked her warm toes off the icy hardwood. Thinking longingly of the thick socks she’d dropped on Kyle’s bed last night, she hopped up and scurried to the bathroom, where her slippers waited. When she’d finished up in the bathroom and returned to her room, she found Brinks sprawled across her bed.
“Good morning, handsome. Thanks for letting me sleep in.”
The big old softie rolled over and showed her his belly. Unable to resist, she complied with his silent request. His coarse fur was freezing. Looked as if her guest had his good points after all.
“Did you thank Kyle for letting you out?”
The dog barked in response and raced back downstairs. Shayna followed, much more slowly, wishing she shared a smidge of the dog’s enthusiasm for the coming day.
Last night had not gone according to plan.
First was the off-the-chart surge of lust, where she’d nearly attacked him at the dinner table. Honestly, she didn’t know what had gotten into her. It’s not as if he was the first good-looking man she’d met. So why did this man-so determined to stir up things she wanted to forget-pack such a wallop?
Then he’d opened up, shared details about his life she was sure he generally kept close to the vest. That glimpse of vulnerability made him even more attractive to her.
Still, she’d nearly gotten the evening back on track, then-bam!-before she knew what had happened, they’d been hip deep in a discussion about Walker, the very thing she’d sworn to avoid.
She hadn’t been in any kind of shape mentally to tackle that subject, and Kyle had knocked her for another loop when he’d offered a cease-fire rather than deliver a crushing verbal blow.
Talk about a welcome surprise.
Downstairs, the invigorating aroma of fresh coffee filled the cabin. She trod quietly into the den, her glance taking in the open door to the spare room.
“Kyle?”
The bathroom that connected to his room had a door that opened directly into the main room, and it was open, as well. Where the devil was he? She hoped he hadn’t tried to walk back down the road in those slippery leather shoes of his. He was likely to break his fool neck.
Worried, she started to rush to the mudroom for her boots, but a dark shape caught her attention through the front window. Shayna inched closer and saw Kyle, standing in the middle of the front yard, hunched against the wind, the hood of her old sweatshirt pulled over his head, his BlackBerry held a few inches in front of his nose.
Amazed that he’d found a signal, she headed for the kitchen and the waiting coffee. Brinks laid sprawled in front of the refrigerator, his favorite spot downstairs. According to the coffeemaker, it was a quarter past nine. Shayna fixed herself a cup and headed through the mudroom, pulling on her toasty work coat and slipping her feet into her heavy boots before stepping out on the back porch. Brinks flew past her, making a mad dash for some unseen critter in the woods.
She could see the wind blowing through the trees, but the three-sided porch protected her from the blast. Apparently, a corner of her brain had been hoping the weatherman had made a mistake, but the heavy, gray clouds and the icicle lawn proved he’d gotten it right.
Hands huddled around her steaming mug, she let her gaze wander over the yard. In the far corner, her garden drooped under the damaging ice. Those veggies were vital to making her budget stretch. She couldn’t afford to lose the whole lot to bad weather.
Grabbing an empty bushel basket, she carefully picked her way across the slippery lawn. The frost stung her bare fingers as she harvested the last of her fall produce. Eggplant, carrots, broccoli, onions, a few wrinkled bell peppers, and a good mess of beans. Since they weren’t expecting a hard freeze, she left the potatoes tucked in the earth.
Shoot! She needed to call and let Lindy know she was fine and dandy but wouldn’t make Thanksgiving. She whistled for Brinks. The dog came running, his tongue hanging out of lips that she’d have sworn were smiling.
On her way back inside, she stopped and rummaged through the freezer, unearthing an eight-pound ham. The frozen meat burned her fingers, and she dashed over and dropped their main course in the sink. Grabbing the phone with one hand and stoppering the sink with the other, Shayna glanced out the window behind the table. Kyle still stood in the same spot, in the same position.
Once she had the ham covered, she turned off the water and dialed Lindy’s number. Travis answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Shayna. How’s the weather up there?”
“Perfect, if you like icy and isolated.”
“We were afraid you’d be stuck.”
“Well, I haven’t tried the roads yet, but judging by last night’s rain and this morning’s temps-” not to mention her guest’s eyewitness account “-I’m pretty sure the bridge’ll be an icy mess.”
“Are you okay up there? Got everything you need?” It was so like Travis to ask.
“I’ll be fine. The propane tank’s full, and I just picked a whole bushel of vegetables. It might not be a traditional Thanksgiving, but we’ll survive.”
She crinkled her eyes at her accidental use of the plural pronoun, but Travis must have assumed she meant her and the dog, because he didn’t comment. They exchanged holiday wishes before he handed the phone off to his wife.
“I knew you should have spent the night with us.”
“Then Brinks would be iced in all by himself. I couldn’t let that happen.” She carried the portable phone over to the fireplace and began poking at the embers. “Besides, it’s not like we’re going to die up here. It’s just a couple of days, and I’ve already assured Travis we have all the basic necessities covered.”
“Good. But you’re going to miss dinner with the family.”
Shayna could hear the tears welling in her friend’s voice. Pregnancy hormones had turned Lindy into a drop-of- the-hat crier.
She stuck the phone between her chin and shoulder and muscled a couple logs into the fireplace. “The ice should melt in time for me to drop by for leftovers in a few days, and that’s my favorite part anyway.”
Lindy sniffled. “Okay.”
Just then, the front door pushed open. Shayna covered the mouthpiece with her hand and stood. Kyle reentered the cabin, a blast of cold air sneaking in with him, blowing through the cabin and fanning the flames Shayna was
